Domestics
by micbb
Summary: He tried not to be too hurt that she hadn't set a place for him in the first place. After all, his pervious self had been infamous for his hate of anything domestic – he'd never had been caught dead at a Christmas dinner with Jackie Tyler and Mickey Smith. Oneshot.


**Absolute, shameless fluff.  
S2E1: The Christmas Invasion  
Standard disclaimer: I own nothing. **

The Doctor examined himself in the mirror of the TARDIS wardrobe. Unlike the man he'd been before, this new him seemed very prone to looking in mirrors and admiring himself. And why shouldn't he, he figured, he was rather pretty this time around. Normal sized ears, big hair, new teeth.

He raised his eyebrows and lowered them, then pulled his lips tight before lifting his chin and examining his jaw line. It was expressive, this new face of his.

Satisfied, he straightened with a nod and tucked his hands into the pockets of his new trousers. Gone were the utilitarian jumpers and heavy trousers; instead he donned a lighter, pinstriped suit and light blue oxford with a silky tie around his neck. His previous self would have lifted his (large) nose in derision, but this Doctor found the look suited him well. The long trench coat he was pretty sure had been a gift from Janis Joplin completed the look, along with his white trainers that were decidedly lighter than his previous work boots.

There was certainly no doubt that the Doctor was a different man.

He ambled out of the wardrobe room, hands still tucked in his pockets, and noted gleefully how the coat already seemed to billow around his legs, even at the slow pace. He took his time on the short walk to the estate, but climbed the stairs in agile leaps.

He couldn't deny the way his insides churned as he made his way to Rose's mum's flat. In his mind, he could still hear, in the distance, Rose's weak voice as she sobbed to her mother about him, about how he'd left her, about how she'd thought she'd known him…he'd longed, in the back of his mind, to reassure her that he was still _him_ , and of course she knew him, she was his best friend. But he was trapped in a body that refused to move, and he couldn't console her.

Then her voice in his ear.

 _Help me_.

He'd never been able to deny Rose Tyler anything, even if it would result in him being in a very uncomfortable healing coma.

So as he stepped into the flat, not bothering to knock, his eyes went directly to his blonde companion (was she still his companion?) and he certainly didn't miss how as soon as she heard the door, her eyes lifted to meet his gaze. He stopped a few feet in, immediately tucking his hand back into his pocket. His lips pulled into a miniscule smile as he took her in, sitting at the dinner table with Mickey and Jackie, getting ready for a Christmas dinner. Domestic.

She seemed to appraise him for the briefest of moments, but even that short period without her smile made his hearts clench with worry. She looked him up and down quickly before a smile broke out on her face, widening until she was positively beaming at him.

It wasn't a full Rose Tyler smile, his treacherous mind whispered, as her tongue didn't poke out from beneath her canine, but it certainly was a step up from asking him to change back into the man she knew, so he'd take it. He felt his own lips parting in response to her smile and decided he rather like the feeling.

She jerked her head towards the table, and he took that as an invitation to step forward and make his way to the feast that was crowding the tabletop. He sat at the end of the table, as close as he could to Rose considering Mickey had taken up the seat on her other side, Rose went to the kitchen to grab a plate for him.

He tried not to be too hurt that she hadn't set a place for him in the first place. After all, his pervious self had been infamous for his hate of anything domestic – he'd never had been caught dead at a Christmas dinner with Jackie Tyler and Mickey Smith. He smiled gratefully at her and noticed with pleasure that Rose's smile didn't seem to have left her face. As soon as the plate was on the table Jackie began to scoop large portions of food onto it – he was far too thin, she told him – and Rose filled his glass with water.

Mickey left the table quite suddenly and came back with four Christmas crackers, and Jackie and Rose laughed delightedly. Rose insisted the Doctor go first, though he eyed the things with trepidation. As she took one end and offered him the other, though, a wide smile still on her lips, he smiled back and took his end. They both gave a sharp tug and the thing popped open with a loud _crack_ , and Rose bit her lip and offered him the larger piece. He deftly reached in and pulled out the red paper crown, chuckling as he unfolded it and slipped it onto his new hair. Rose laughed again, and the Doctor struggled to remember a time when he'd seen her laugh so much.

He quickly reached forward and grabbed another one, offering it to Rose with the smile wide grin. The tip of her tongue poke out of her answering smile, and the Doctor felt a rush of pride, pleased that he could still make her smile _that_ smile. She reached for the end and again, they both tugged quickly. It cracked loudly and both Rose and Jackie squealed loudly, making the Doctor laugh.

He ended up with the larger end this time. He looked in and saw the crinkly paper still lodged in the cracker. "Oh, that's yours," he said, offering it to Rose.

She took the cracker from his hands and pulled out the crown, and he leaned forward onto his elbows as she unfolded it. "It's pink!" She cried delightedly.

"Pink, lovely," he murmured, the grin back on his face as he watched her.

"Mum, it should be yours!" Rose said as she spread the crown with her fingers. The Doctor couldn't help but disagree. The pink crown was undoubtedly suited to his pink-and-yellow companion. It might have suited her mother as well, but the sweet smile that graced her lips when she saw it and the delight that had come next told him, with absolute certainty, that the pink crown was most definitely Rose's.

"Aw, put it on!" Jackie encouraged, not a hint of disappointment on her face and a wide grin on her lips as she watched her daughter smile and laugh at her dinner table, a sight she'd missed.

Rose did, and he watched her with warm eyes and a wide grin as she pulled the pink paper over her hair, then pushed a few stray locks from her face.

He thought, just in this moment, maybe he could handle domestic.

He could handle anything if he had Rose Tyler by his side.


End file.
